The Thanksgiving Contest
by Madeleine DeAngelo
Summary: The title says everything! T rated, because I told my friend to shut up.
1. Chapter 1

Madeline DeAngelo slowly walked out of her school.

The first thing she noticed was a limo. With her last name on it.

She walked furiously to the driver.

"Ah, Miss Madeline. Your father has sent me to pick you up," he said.

"It's Mah - Dah - _Lean_, not Made_line_," she informed. "I'm going somewhere."

"But your father said - "

"I _know_ what Dad said. Can you _please_ remind him that I specifically told him not to send a limo to school? It makes me look weird."

"As you wish, Miss."

"My names Madeline."

"Miss Madeline."

She turned and walked away, not looking back to see if the car was following.

* * *

><p>Madeline sat by the water fall.<p>

It was a place she and her friends had found, but later discovered it was already founded. But they didn't care. It was _theirs_ technically, since _they_ always visit.

"What to do...What to do..." Madeline had already finished her homework. She often talked to herself, and often wondered if she talks to herself because she's a writer, or if she's a writer because she talks to herself.

_A contest._

It hit her.

An actual apple fell and hit her on the head, giving her the idea. **(Note: It actually did. My head hurts, and I have a big boo-boo!)**

Thanksgiving!

_But I have too many rules...Will they follow it? _

_Nah, stick to fewer rules. That's how you won Eli's contest. _

_Who is that?_

_Your conscience. _

_But you sound like my friend._

_You must like me a lot._

_Shut up, Ian._

_You named a character after me..._

_Shut up, Ian Rose!_

_Stick to a few rules..._

Soon, the voice faded, and Madeline was feeling a lot better.

She opened her Mac, and started typing.

_I like desktops better._

Madeline came up with it.

**Hi, guys! It's Lean the Lucian...and I have a contest for you!**

_Nah, too obvious._

**Yo, what's up my lil' gangsta's? **

_Too much like Jonah Wizard!_

* * *

><p><strong>Hey! I'm back, and better than ever, baby!<strong>

* * *

><p><em>Perfect.<em>

* * *

><p><strong>Since Thanksgiving is my absolute favorite holiday (but the negative side is that it often doesn't snow D:), I decided to have a contest!<strong>

**Alright, there are only a few rules.**

**Actually, a lot. **

**The rules are:**

**1) It has to take place in Thanksgiving, or the day, or the week before Thanksgiving. **

**2) The characters have to be getting ready to go to a Thanksgiving dinner. **

**3) It can be a one-shot...or two-shot...or any other shot.**

**4) Be creative!**

**5) It can be about Hope/Arthur/Vikram/Isabel generation, or Amy/Dan/Ian/Natalie/All the others generation, or just the future generation of the Cahills!**

**And pretty much, that's all! If you want to enter, just make sure to PM me, 'kay? If there are any questions, also include it in the PM. **

**I wonder if anyone is going to enter...there are SO many rules!**

* * *

><p><em>No one's going to enter, Lean.<em>

_Get out of my head, Ian. Don't you have your part of the science project to work on?_

_..._

_Thought so._

* * *

><p><strong>Contest begins now (obviously), and ends on November 22, 2011 (so I can have time to decide). If any of my FanFic friends are entering...Please don't be hurt if you don't win! Until later, <strong>

**Lean the Lucian.**

**Oh, don't forget to check out "The Garden of Hespirides" by Goldie and me!**

* * *

><p><em>Do you always have to include that?<em>

_It's my favorite story in my profile._

_I like it, too._

_That's 'cause you're a character there. _


	2. Rewards

Madeleine brought out her Mac again.

_Thanks to Ian, I forgot to add the prizes,_ she grumbled to herself.

_Ian?_

_Yeah, you...Wait, when did you go British?_

_I was always British._

_No...Wait! Ian Kabra?_

_Of course. Everyone knows me. Even the Vespers. Though, I think that isn't very good news._

_You can bet your British butt it isn't. _

_Please continue. I'd like to see what the prizes are. _

_Fine._

* * *

><p><strong>Hi! I realized two things: One, I misspelled my name on Fanfiction the WHOLE entire time. <strong>

**It was actually Madeleine, with an 'e'.**

* * *

><p><em>Haha. You don't know how to spell your name.<em>

_Haha. Your sister got kidnapped shopping. _

_That's not funny. _

* * *

><p><strong>And number two: I didn't mention the prizes! Now what kind of contest would this be without any prizes? <strong>

**So, here it goes. **

**Fourth place: I'll review one of your stories (as if I'm THAT important)**

**Third place: I'll add one of your stories AND review. **

**Second place: I'll subscribe you. And you can ALSO tell me what you want. **

**First place: Guest appearance in one of my stories. And you also get whatever you want, plus the fourth, third and second place prize. **

**Now I bet you guys are on fire! Stay tuned, and make sure to enter! Don't worry, you'll also win something for just entering. Any questions, review or just PM. Bye!**

* * *

><p><em>Bye.<em>

_Stop mocking me._

_I won't._

_You are just like your father. _

_Oh, and the thing is: I don't think the peasants mother and my father would EVER find each other pleasant. _

_You actually read that story?_

_Yes. It is quite...Entertaining. _

_Good._

_It's called sarcasm, dear Madeleine. _

_Lean, not Line or Lyn._

_Yes, yes. See you in the future, fellow Lucian..._

_Don't walk off with that coy look. Hey...Where's my painting? Ian! Did you steal my painting? IAN! I rightfully stole that from Jonah! IAN KABRA! _


	3. Winner

Madeleine woke up to the sound of her sisters voice, yelling,

"MERRY THANKSGIVING PEOPLE!"

"Madeleine's trying to sleep, Amy!" She heard her brother Ethan shout back.

"IT'S ALREADY 7:30! YOU NEVER WANT TO MISS A MINUTE OF THANKSGIVING!"

Madeleine got up and groaned. She went down to the dining room, where she found Ethan, Amy and her parents sitting. Her mother had already prepared breakfast.

"We already missed about eight hours of it," Ethan reasoned.

"Happy Thanksgiving, Madeleine," her mom said.

"Thanksgiving?" Madeleine asked, still in a trance.

"You haven't forgotten, have you?" Amy asked.

"Forgot?" Madeleine echoed.

"Your contest! The one where I'm going to win?" Amy said.

"Contest? Contest!"

All three siblings ran upstairs to their miniature library. Madeleine logged in.

"Guess we have to call a meeting at the great hall," Madeleine said, with a grin.

**At the Great Hall...**

"Attention, Cahills! Attention! Attention!" Madeleine frowned. No one was listening. "VESPERS!" Immediately, everyone drew out their weapons.

"Better," Madeleine muttered. "I have gathered you all here today for something important. The ceremony of . . . The Contest." Everyone gasped. "In this envelope, I hold here right now, contains the winner . . . "

The audience drew in their breath.

"For third place . . . The Bloomable Author . . . AMELIA?"

"YES!"

"You weren't supposed to win at all!"

"Too bad! You gotta review my story when I put it up!"

Madeleine sighed. She didn't want her sister to be a better author.

"For second place . . . Another Lucian!" Madeleine practically heard a fist pound up in the air.

"Which means first place is . . . "

"**Goldenheart11**!" The Cahills shouted, and everyone cheered.

"Yay, Goldie!" Madeleine jumped into the air. "She's first! Goldie is first! The Golden-Heart is first!" She say a shadow, that looked strangely like Goldie, in the corner, jumping as well. "She will appear in one of my stories, for two chapters. YOU CAN CHOOSE THE STORY, GOLDIE!"

They all settled down. "Merry Thanksgiving everyone! No, Ian Kabra, _merry_, not marry, like you want to marry Amy Cahill."


End file.
